


counting the days to go, it just ain’t living and i hope you know

by dvntldr



Series: DC Legends of Tomorrow Prompts [4]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Kendra Saunders Is A Badass, Protective Kendra Saunders, Protective Mick Rory, Protective Sara Lance, Rip Hunter Needs a Hug, Rip Hunter-centric, RipFic, Sick Rip Hunter, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:01:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22065175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvntldr/pseuds/dvntldr
Summary: “I can stick this thermometer in your mouth or I can stick it somewhere less pleasant. Your choice.”
Series: DC Legends of Tomorrow Prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588114
Kudos: 26





	counting the days to go, it just ain’t living and i hope you know

“You better have a really good reason for getting out of bed.” 

_Damn_. Rip turns slowly, ready to bribe his way to freedom before he blanches at the sight of the whole team standing behind him, all of them wearing identical looks of disapproval. “I don’t suppose we could talk this out?” He tries half-heartedly, only to yelp in shock when Mick seizes the back of his neck like a puppy to be scolded and cuffs his head roughly in reprimand, dragging him towards the kitchen. 

Sara pats his cheek lightly, but not before she pulls out a thermometer. Rip pales and wonders whether it’s too late to start running, but Mick’s grip on his neck tightens and he subsides reluctantly. “I can stick this thermometer in your mouth or I can stick it somewhere much less pleasant. It’s your choice, Rip.”

He blinks in stunned surprise, looking at the others pleadingly for backup, but none of them seem inclined in the least to help him out. Ungrateful ingrates. “I don’t think I need to tell you ‘I told you so’, but...I told you so.” Kendra says with a raised eyebrow, apparently willing to abandon him to his fate. He sighs heavily, giving in and opening his mouth so she can put the thermometer in—they enter the kitchen just as it begins to beep, the blinking LED display showing 102.7°F (39.3°C). 

“You brought this upon yourself.” Martin adds reprovingly, completely unsympathetic as he produces a cloth and offers it to the other male, who takes it with begrudging thanks to wipe the beads of sweat from his forehead. 

“Will you all _please_ stop hounding me? I’m perfectly fine!” Rip snaps, glaring at them. And sneezes. And then sneezes again. 

“Uh huh, you sound perfectly fine,” Jax nods solemnly, his lips twitching in repressed amusement as Rip huffs at the patronising words, folding his arms in indignant irritation. He hasn’t fallen sick in years—it’s completely incomprehensible that he’d be sick _now_ of all times. When he voices this, Sara simply rolls her eyes and shoves him into a seat at the kitchen table, brandishing a butter knife intimidatingly.

“If you’re stupid enough to keep talking…” His mouth clicks shut audibly at the threat and the assassin gives him a smug look as he grumbles quietly under his breath, looking more like a petulant child than a distinguished Captain. Ray plonks a tall glass of honey-lemon down in front of him and Rip eyes it as if it could explode at any moment, wary of the offering. 

“I really don’t think this is necessary…” 

“Drink it, or I’ll pry your mouth open and pour it down your throat.” Leonard drawls lazily, hands twitching at his sides as if he’s getting ready to do just that—Rip weighs the two options swiftly and goes for the one that involves the least bloodshed, though he glares childishly at the crook as he downs the drink. Despite how much he’d fought it initially, the honey-lemon both tastes great and soothes his throat wonderfully, and he finds himself finishing it all within minutes. “See? Was that really so hard?”

“Yes,” he huffs grumpily, standing on unsteady legs and making to move away from the kitchen before Mick blocks his path, eyes narrowed. “Mr. Rory, I didn’t think you would care even if I _was_ sick.”

“I don’t,” the arsonist deadpans in reply, staring him down. “But Lenny wants you alive and I don’t want my partner to kick my ass for letting you kill yourself, as fun as that would be. Fair warning though, if you pass out I’m not going to catch you.” 

Rip sighs, rubbing his face in exhaustion as Martin pats his shoulder reassuringly, snorting at the vexed look on their Captain’s face. “Captain, I’d suggest not debating the issue with them. All the evidence points to the fact that you are, indeed, ill. We could remain in the temporal zone while you recover.” 

“Or we could keep going on missions—“ 

“Absolutely not!” Rip barks quickly before wincing pathetically in the next instant—his ever-present migraine is getting worse and he kind of feels as if someone’s attempting to steamroller over his brain. Despite Mick’s caustic words, the pyromaniac still takes a few quick steps forwards to support him when his legs buckle and threaten to collapse under him, his head positively swimming from the throbbing pain in his skull. 

“Rip, we’re not trying to lock you up in the medbay. We just want you to rest for a little bit, and maybe eat something if you can later. You can’t get better by just ignoring the fact that you’re sick.” He feels himself falter at Ray’s earnest expression, the billionaire’s eyes clouded with concern. _Bollocks,_ operating while injured had been much easier when he hadn’t had to worry about disappointing an overbearing, protective crew. 

“You won’t go anywhere without me?” He checks, scanning all their expressions for confirmation. “No piloting the jumpship, no brawling in the corridors, no food fights, no stealing each other’s things, no drugging each other to win bets?” 

“Scout’s honor.” Leonard smirks down at him playfully as Kendra loops her arm in his and tugs him down the hallway, which he’s rather glad for so he doesn’t have to listen to Martin indignantly going ‘that was _one_ time!’. 

“Now, would you just shut up before you make your throat even worse?” He scowls hotly at the demigoddess, ready to defend himself, but his words curl up and die in his throat and he ends up trying to choke back thick bile. She gives him a ‘I told you so’ look, but thankfully doesn’t press the matter, simply kindly helping him into bed. 

“Gideon, could you lower the temperature by three degrees?” He asks quietly, and she complies. The rest of the team has seemingly decided to leave them alone, and he isn’t sure whether that’s a good thing or not, considering their track record. There’s every chance that they’re simply plotting a way to overthrow him, not that he doesn’t have several plans of his own to leave them stranded in the Paleozoic Eras, specifically the Cambrian the next time they manage to blow a planet up (although he wouldn’t exactly be surprised if they found a way to travel through space and time through luck and sheer willpower just to punch him in the face, wrecking the timeline and causing untold amounts of chaos and destruction along the way).

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep them in line. You just focus on having a good rest, okay? They _do_ care about you, you know? We all do.” Kendra hums, wiping away the sweat on his forehead tenderly and ignoring the skeptical look he’s giving her. She gets up, leaving the cloth by his bedside, and pats his shoulder gently. “I’ll be back soon to bring you a drink and some medication, okay? Sleep well.” 

She turns to leave and Rip bites his lip at the sudden burst of intense appreciation he feels for her, for all of them. God, he’s really gone soft, but… “Kendra?” She turns to look at him and he offers her a small, uncertain smile that she instantly returns. “Thank you.”

She doesn’t reply, simply beaming at him warmly and leaving—he sags back against his pillows, glancing at the ceiling, completely worn out by the short interactions. “Gideon? Could you read me a story?”

“Of course, Captain Hunter. 

_‘I suppose the important thing is to make some sort of difference,‘ she said. ‘You know, actually change something.‘_

_‘What, like―change the world, you mean?‘_

_‘Not the whole entire world. Just the little bit around you.’_ …”

**Author's Note:**

> the story Gideon reads to Rip in the end is ‘One Day’ by David Nicholls, a story about two people who find each other over and over again over the course of twenty years. of course the plot is a little more complicated than that, but that’s the gist of it—it’s a good book and I recommend it to anyone who’s interested!


End file.
